


Let's stop talking about it

by dittyditto (Triple_A)



Series: Local man says he won't fall in love with a robot, does it anyways with the gnarliest robot in his vicinity [3]
Category: Detroit: Become Human (Video Game)
Genre: 5+1 Things, AI!Fowler, And he's also a dad kinda, Babysitting, Connor’s last name is Argus, Dad!Sixty, Drowning, Fluff, Fowler - Freeform, Gav's a lil shit, Gavin is GV700, He swapped with Amanda, Kiss of Life, Kissing, M/M, Matter of Life and Death, Near Death Experiences, Sixty is Seth, Surprise Kissing, Tooth-Rotting Fluff, Uncle!Connor, Undercover, Weird shenanigans, especially at the end, reverse au, sorta - Freeform
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-05-20
Updated: 2019-07-05
Packaged: 2020-03-02 21:57:58
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 6
Words: 9,325
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/18819820
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Triple_A/pseuds/dittyditto
Summary: Five times they kissed because stupid circumstances called for it, and one time they did it out of their own volition.





	1. Kingpin

**Author's Note:**

> my exams are done and i have the mental capacity of a chewed lollipop stick
> 
> have sum gay shit

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The first time it happens is stupid. Ridiculous. The kind of thing you can't help but look back on and laugh.

The first time it happened was stupid. Ridiculous. The kind of thing you can't help but look back on and laugh.

But at the time, it was the farthest thing from funny Gavin could think of. An undercover mission, scoping out the distinguished "Minx" nightclub establishment. Waiting for some suspected Red Ice kingpin make the introductions to a deal with the narc they'd sent in, while Gavin and Connor monitored from the hallway leading into the private rooms.

"This is taking so long." Connor complained for the nth time, twirling a tumbler in his hand and leaning against the grimy gold wallpaper. He's overdressed, the black button-down rolled up at the elbows and his plum blazer draped over his shoulders. Already, he's attracted too much attention and curious stares from the dance floor on his right, that Gavin had had to shoo off with glares and scowls.

"I don't know what you expected, dumbass." Gavin huffed, picking at the sleeve of his own green v-neck. He'd nicked it from some charity bin earlier, and at that same time he had plucked out his LED. The lack of the colored glow that he had expected in the dim hallway was somewhat disorienting. Pink and purple lights flash over them from the dance floor, coloring his shirt dark at random intervals. "Jacobin's gotta stay cautious."

"I know, but." He downed the rest of his whiskey, sets the glass down on a nearby trash bin. Did he use gel? His hair is more...swoopy then usual, and there's a strange shine to it under the multicolored lights. "The Kingpin isn't even here yet. It's just his cronies right now."

"Well, our good friend Mister Cartel Guy has a habit of big entrances for potential clients. This is likely just that."

Connor just grumbled, shooting a scowl at first the open door of the private room they were watching and then at Gavin, before turning back to surveying the dancing and deft bass. Gavin scowled and turned his attention back to the room, wherer he could see that Officer Jacobin was handling things smoothly, all charisma and easy smiles. Kepler would be in soon.

Good. As much as he hated to agree with Connor, Gavin was getting impatient waiting. Things could've been over much faster if he was in there instead, negotiating for the product and relaying the proceedings, instead of sending in a human and having two others play guard dogs.

"Where'd you get that, anyways?" Connor interrupted, suddenly. He gestured at himself, then at Gavin, waving a hand like a scanner. "The shirt."

"Your mom gave it to me, said it'd bring out my eyes." Gavin replied automatically.

"Oh, fuck off." But Connor flicked his gaze momentarily to Gavin's face, as if checking his eye color. "You're such a child. And you look shady as hell, just standing there with no drink."

"Speak for yourself? At least I blend in with my outfit. You look like a stocks seller with a very specific fetish."

"What the fuck is that supposed to mean? And I danced a little bit! When I was placing the bugs! And-" They both cut off as a girl walked up to take Connor's elbow with a flirtatious wink and a giggle. The force of both his and Gavin's glares was enough to send her shrinking back into the crowd. "And I'm drinking!"

"Oh yeah, great job boasting about getting drunk now." Gavin rolled his eyes again, and he's about to add in a comment on Connor's mediocre dance skills when he noticed something; a literal mountain of a man, pushing through the dancers, clothed in expensive black. Garish rings on his fingers. Other people, dressed similarly in suits and with holsters glittering at their hips, orbit him closely, glaring at anyone who got in their way.

A quick scan- Jack Kepler. Multiple accounts of drug possession, embezzling, assault, the works. Their kingpin.

Still on the other side of the club, but getting closer, and Connor was still puffing himself up for the argument with Gavin, totally oblivious to the fact that he's about to blow their cover right at the entrance of the lion's den.

"It was one drink, and I'm not drunk. first of all. And second of all, I do not stick out. I know how to do my goddamn job, just because you're the fancy fucking police android doesn't mean I don't know how to do my job right-"

"Shut up, shut up." Gavin muttered, reaching out to cover Connor's mouth with a hand. Kepler's getting closer, the dancers parting slowly like a fucking ocean before a steroid-pumped Moses in Versace. They need to get out of there-but Connor isn't moving. In fact, the man pulls Gavin's hand away, fixing him with sharp eyes twisted in a scowl.

"Don't tell me to shut up! I know you're just as impatient as I am waiting for this whole shitty situation to blow over, so you can go back to CyberLife and I can get my life back-"

Gavin can see the Kingpin getting closer from behind Connor, and pretty soon not even the throbbing bass will be able to cover up their conversation. Calculations swirl through his head-the time to get away from the hallway without looking suspicious is ticking away like sand in a sieve. He's running out of options, and Connor won't let go of his hand. "Connor, I swear to fucking hell-"

"I can't believe I got paired with the most incessant, irritating plastic prick to ever exist, were you supposed to be programmed with that shitty personality? Because whoever did it fucked up giving that to something that's supposed to be a-mph!"

Gavin had grabbed the back of Connor's neck and pulled him forward, hurredly pressing their lips together in a last-ditch effort to shut the man up. Connor stiffened like a statue, grabbing at Gavin's shoulders as if moving to shove him off, and promptly froze up again just as Kepler reaches them.

 _Move,_ Gavin wanted to scream, because what good is a kiss if it's so clearly fake? As if understanding, Connor does, one hand dipping to wrap around Gavin's waist and the other cupping his cheek, hiding him from the bodyguards that pass. Gavin does the same, feeling the smoothness underneath his palm-Connor had shaved earlier, he can faintly detect the traces of aftershave and cologne, a strange spicy odor that somehow matches Connor perfectly. Suiting him.

And like all things, Connor either flat out refuses Gavin or does what he demands and then some. The hands grew more insistent, carefully pulling Gavin close. His mouth, still bearing the chemical composition of the neat whiskey he'd downed earlier, opened against Gavin's, and suddenly he was drowned in the sudden influx of heat and information. Connor's thigh pressed upwards, sliding neatly against the inside of Gavin's knee and startling an undignified squeak from the android's mouth.

He diverted just the bare minimal amount of processing to watch Kepler, who threw them an odd look as he passed, but nothing else. The relief of it was like a flood, warm and cascading down his back as the tension leaves his shoulders and he sighed. Connor does the same, hand dropping down from his cheek to caress his- _oh_ -the side of Gavin's neck, tracing over decorative veins and real wires, shocking live electric impulses that threatened to shake Gavin apart. He could barely keep it together enough to keep his skin intact over the area as the feeling trickled down his back and spread, overheating him.

They stayed like that a while longer as the last guards pass by, paying them no mind. Officer Jacobin sent the signal that they're in position-he can see the message in his HUD, and he knows Connor must hear it from his earpiece, but neither dared to move away just yet. Not yet. _Play it safe._

He's not sure which one of them pulled away first, but by the time he gets his bearings they're already moving away with a gasp. Connor's face was flushed under the colored lights, his lips were shiny with spit, both artificial and real. His hair was slicked in messy directions from when Gavin had run fingers through it, and he leaned against the wall for a moment, chest heaving.

"I..." He started, eyes still wide and looking at Gavin as if he'd never seen anything quite like the android before.

"The target's in place. We should go. Call backup." Gavin said, hurriedly, turning away. His lips still buzzed with some residual electric pressure, and instabilities popped up faster then he could quarantine them.

Connor was still staring, and he looked drunk, as if he'd had far more then just the one drink. But he turned away and ran one hand through his hair and the other over his face, composing himself with a sigh."...Right."

"We're never talking about this again."

"Please."

The rest of the mission goes smoothly.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> the g in gavin stands for gay and the r in reed stands for rat
> 
> cyberlife devs gonna have a hell of a time trying to figure out when they installed a "horny" module and why One trash detective man activates it


	2. In the Water

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> But then it happens again. The second time, it's still ridiculous, but less laughable.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> connor's technically gen zed in this 'verse so he got that Salt, yakkno?
> 
> also he's emotionally stunted

They don't talk about it again. They don't discuss it at all. And aside from the slight, shit-eating grin Officer Jacobin had thrown their way once, in the aftermath of the arrest, it's like it never happened; and Gavin's perfectly fine with that. It won't happen again, he assures himself, so why bother dwelling on it, either out loud or mentally.

But then, it does happens again. The second time, it's still ridiculous, but less laughable.

(In hindsight: It was Gavin's fault, he was stupid, he let Connor get too close to the perp without paying attention to where they were standing-too close to edge of the boardwalk-too close to the water-)

"Detective!" He screams into the churning river below, all grey-green and foaming furious. The perp has taken off, but Gavin won't chase after them, consequences be damned-he'll get chewed out by Fowler later but he can take it, because Connor has vanished into the waters and Gavin can't find him.

He speeds down the water's edge, dodging litter and debris, trying to get a glimpse of a brown jacket, dark hair, anything. Could the Detective swim? He didn't remember, they hadn't talked about it, and Gavin curses vehemently as he desperately scans the churning surface.

_There!_

A single pale hand flashed out, just for a moment, a few yards ahead. There's no time to even debate, calculate; Gavin dives in, hands blindly waving in front of him as his retinal operators are obscured by the muck. His left hand catches on something, something smooth and pliable-the fold of a jacket- and he snatches onto it by the tips of his fingers and hauls ass upwards.

He drags Connor to the water's edge again, doggy-paddling and trying to keep Connor's head above water (CyberLife really should've made his model heavier, agility be damned, because it was taking everything he had not to get swept like a leaf), the man a dead weight at his side.

He deposits Connor on the ground, and the man lands limply against the gravel, eyes closed and face pale with cold.

"Detective?" He touches Connor's cheek, and feels ~~dread fear horror~~  there's no pulse, no breath. Connor's not breathing.

"Connor!" But the Detective is still lifeless and cold on the rocky shore. Quickly, Gavin alerts the Department, requesting a paramedic.

 **Estimated Time to Arrival:**   **00:12:43**.

Connor doesn't have twelve minutes.

He braces his palms against the middle of Connor's sternum. One, two, three, four- no response. Five, six, seven-

"Wake up, wake the fuck up, asshole!" He whines, pumping arms up and down and desperately scanning for some twitch, some soft flutter of life.

Nine, ten. Nothing.

Gavin leans down and carefully presses fingers under Connor's jaw, tilting the man's slack lips open, and presses his mouth against cold lips.

The inside of Connor's mouth was warm, and Gavin can read traces of the river water among the residue of coffee and cigarettes. His model wasn't meant to "breathe", he could only simulate it for the sake of integration, but Gavin's internal fans kick into overdrive, cycling fresh air from thinly concealed vents.

Finally, there's movement. Connor's chest rises, just a little bit. It's not enough.

 _Please, please, please,_ please! His fans are already overworking, but he pushes them just a bit more-red block warnings flash before him, advising him to cool down, to stop, but he can't. Not now. He sucks in more air and forces it out with more pressure, pulling back for just a moment to apply compressions again.

Did Connor's fingers just twitch?

Four minutes since Connor had fallen in. The human brain begins to die without oxygen at six minutes. Gavin can feel the heat of his internal routers, sharp and grating against wiring and nerves and screaming literal danger, but he sucks in another breath.

**WARNING: BIOCOMPONENT #8455w OVERHEATING**

**WARNING: BIOCOMPONENT #2417c OVERHEATING**

**MAXIMAL VENTILATION CAPACITY REACHED**

**ADVISED TEMPERATURE FOR OTIMAL FUNCTIONALITY SURPASSED BY EIGHT DEGREES**

**STASIS SUGGESTED**

Not yet, not yet. Gavin kisses Connor again, forces the oxygen from his mouth. He hears something crack, from inside of him, before he sees the blaring danger sign, but he doesn't care.

Another twitch of pale fingers-a flutter of eyelashes-Connor gasps, eyes shooting wide, and shoves Gavin away to turn onto his side and cough, hackingly, expelling dark liquid onto the gray stones.

"Shi-holy fu-my god." He wheezes, falling back onto his back, chest heaving. Gavin sits up from where he had fallen, the relief overriding his annoyance at being shoved over. "Fuck."

 _You're_ welcome, Gavin wants to sneer, but nothing escapes him but a soft creak. With a frown, he runs a self-diagnostic.

**BIOCOMPONENT: #2417c DAMAGED. PLEASE CONTACT CYBERLIFE FOR REPAIRS**

Just perfect.

"You saved me." Connor mumbles from where he lies, turning his head just slightly to look at Gavin. "You-you let the perp get away, to save me."

It really sucks that Gavin's vocal functions were offline, because he had a lot to say to that. Instead, he raises his hand, displaying a text screen on his palm. _You're fucking welcome, asshole._

Connor raises a brow. "What is this? Making me talk to the hand?"

 _Vocal component dead. CPR on you killed it._ Gavin scowls. _I'm designed for infiltration, not saving human lives._

"I...holy shit. You broke yourself saving my busted ass?"

 _Yes, dumbass_. He rolls his eyes. _I burnt out my fans._

"Good, now you can shut up for once." Connor sighs, coughs again, winces. "I guess I ought to give you credit, for keeping me from drowning. But honestly? It would've been better if you just went after the perp."

It takes some time for Gavin to concoct a proper reply.

_I_

_What do_

_Why would you say that?_

"Why shouldn't I?...And why do you care." Connor grumbles, turning away. "You're just an android, my emotional state is my business. Leave me alone."

If Gavin could scream, he would-as it is, all he manages is a series of crackling static. Connor's words...he's not sure why, but they don't sit right with him. Not in the slightest, actually-he feels the same sensation that come with an impending shutdown notice, but heavier, more gradual. The looming storm.

At least his wrecked vocal processor gets Connor's attention, and Gavin raises his wrist again. _Don't say that._

"You're just an android, what do you care-"

 _I don't know!_ Gavin slams his free hand to the rocks in frustration, and the plastic of his joints creak in protest. _But_

_Just_

_Don't. Please, don't. I don't know why you think like this, but you don't deserve to drown in a fuckn river._

Shit, he's run out of space. He takes a moment to clear the screen. _I know it hasn't been easy working with me. I'm not good at talking, despite my programming._ Backspace, backspace, backspace...he was going to have to upgrade his UI when they got back. _But I know you're a good person. You work hard. And you're passionate about your job._

"So? So are a lot of people. So are serial killers."

Gavin rolls his eyes exaggeratedly. _So, I_ enjoy _working with you, asshole. You're good at your job. You get excited about the things you like, and that means you're human and fun to be around. Don't jump into lakes while I'm around, because I won't let this happen again._

"I changed my mind." Connor grumbles, covering his face with an arm. There's color in his cheeks again, rosy pink. "If you could talk you wouldn't be saying this cheesy shit."

Gavin flips him off with one hand and lies down next to him. The clouds were thinning, and there was a meager warmth from the sun.

"...Thanks." Connor says. "For saving me, and-just thanks. I'm sorry you busted yourself doing that."

The overheating components were still warm, but hearing Connor brings a different kind of heat-a gentle one. Gavin raises his hand to the sky, fingers stretching towards the clouded sun, before turning his palm towards them.

_Don't mention it._

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Bonus:
> 
> "By the way, I think you broke my ribs."
> 
> _...Don't mention that either._
> 
>  
> 
>  
> 
> apparently all it takes for gavin to learn how to emote is One human disaster


	3. Sitting For Seth

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The third time it happens is...well, as always, still ridiculous. Still uncalled for. But much nicer this time.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> listen sixty = seth and he also has a kid who he loves a lot okay
> 
> don't ask me questions about where the kid came from im not that deep in the paint yet

The third time it happens is...well, as always, still ridiculous. Still uncalled for. But much nicer this time.

And it starts with a job offer.

"Please, Connor, just once." Seth had begged back at the precinct, and despite having the same face it's amazing how much better the younger twin could manipulate it, making the most effective puppy eyes Gavin had ever seen on a grown man. "It's just for an afternoon and an evening!"

Connor groaned, pinched the bridge of his nose. "Seth...why. Why not your usual babysitter-"

"Oh, Jerry? Yeah apparently the company that android worked with called and said the guy was on break, and all their other sitters are booked. So," He shrugged. "I figured my darling brother wouldn't mind watching my baby for just a little while, so I can perform another grisly autopsy. For one of your cases, I might add."

"Why are your shifts so weird?!"

"Death doesn't have a timetable, and neither do I. Come on, Connor. Connie." He draped himself over Connor's desk, looking up at Connor with a pout. "Connorman Roll."

"I hate you so much." Connor deadpanned.

Seth pressed his hand to his chest. "My heart aches, how dare you?"

Connor groaned, and ran his palms down his face. Gavin took the time to quickly glance through Seth's file on the database: one child, daughter, five years old. Lucretia Juniper Argus, a bright-eyed little kid with bouncy black curls and freckles spotting her cheeks.

"Why me? Why not Nathaniel?"

"Already asked him, but his excuse is solid. Some fancy mission thing Amanda dumped on him."

"I have work too."

"Not on those days you don't. I checked your scheduling, so don't lie to me." Seth grinned and leaned in, content smile indicating that Connor was as good as lost now. Gavin looked over, and so it was-the other twin was defeated, glaring tiredly at Seth. "'Sides, you're still dealing with your ribs, and I know for a fact that you're sick of desk duty."

"How the hell did you even get my scheduling? The only other thing that knows it....is...." Realization dawned on his face, and Connor looked at Gavin. "Gavin."

Gavin pretended to take a moment, as if he didn't hear at first. "Hm?"

"Why."

"Last week. Myer's autopsy report. You told me to get it."

"That didn't-that doesn't equivocate to sell my personal info to my goddamn brother!" Connor hissed, and Seth's Cheshire-grin grew wider.

"Hey now, don't blame Gravy for this. Look on the bright side, Lucy hasn't seen you in ages. She misses you."

Connor grumbled, but raised his hand in a weak high-five over the use of 'Gravy', to which Seth reciprocated enthusiastically. "Hmph. Does she even remember me? I haven't seen her in a while."

"Your ugly mug is hard to forget." Seth hopped off from the desk, slapped Gavin on the shoulder from where he's still reeling from the new botched nickname (and here he thought Nate was the one who was terrible with names)-and literally glided out of the bullpen.

"I-We have the same mug!" Connor called after him, though Seth is long gone by now. "And stop wearing heelies! They're a work hazard!"

Distant, tinny-"Fuck you!"

And that was that.

* * *

"I don't know why I had to be brought along." Gavin complains as they sit in Seth's apartment living room. Seth's parrot, Klaus, cackles from its perch in the corner at them, where they're seated awkwardly on the couch with a few feet between them. Lucretia plays with her toys on the rug in front of them, as Seth patters around the kitchen. They can smell something cooking; Gavin can analyze olive-oil and vinegar in the steam.

"Alright, and....done." Seth pops his head out; he's wearing a 'World's Best Grandma' apron, all paisley pinks and frills. "Dinner's done. I'm headin' out." He crosses over, tugs off the apron and drops it gracefully over Gavin's head, before bending down to scoop Lucretia up into his arms. "Hey, jellyfish. How're you doin'?"

Lucretia giggles in his arms, and wraps her arms around him. "Papa!"

It's adorably domestic, sickeningly sweet, and Gavin wonders if he can ever see Connor in the same domestic position (though, he supposes, he is. Seth and Connor's face were similar to the point of nearly fooling even his facial-recognition software). Wearing ridiculous aprons and swinging children in his arms.

"Papa's going to work now, be good for Uncle Connie and, uh." He glances over at Gavin. "Uncle Gav, yeah? Don't wear them out."

"Connor. Connor, my name is Connor." Connor says as he pulls the apron from his head, but he smiles as kindly as he can at Lucretia, who makes a face at him and turns away. Gavin's too busy mulling the new title: Uncle?

Seth sets Lucretia back down, "Dinner is spaghetti and tomato-sauce. If she's still hungry, there's peaches in the pantry. Slice one into eighths and drizzle a little sugar, only a teaspoon." Seth picks up his hoodie and his bag, salutes the two of them. "Oh, and uh. I've already fed Klaus. If he starts whining about it tell him where to stick his complaints, but not while Lucretia's in the room. See y'all's in a bit!" He blows a kiss to his daughter. "Bye, jellyfish!"

"Bye bye!" She giggles back, and just like that they're alone. With a kid. And a parrot.

Gavin looks to Lucretia, staring at him with a curious expression. To Connor, who already looks exhausted, and to the parrot, glaring down at him with a mean eye. "Baby baby! Rat man!" It sqwaks, and flaps its wings.

He looks back to the kitchen. "Do you think he turned off the stove?"

* * *

As it turns out, Seth has a better handle on things then Gavin originally supposed.

For one, the stove's turned off. The pantry is far well stocked, the surroundings are clean and tidied. Things that are child-friendly are clearly seperated and quarantined from the things that aren't, and there's even a list of do's and don't's with Lucretia, scrabbled messily on the back of a blank, yellow evidence form with coffee ringing the corners, left on the kitchen table for them to see.

"Seth's got a different side in home then in work, huh." He notes later to Connor, as he watches him and Lucretia eat. Lucretia has tomato sauce on her face, and Connor, noticing this, sticks the bottom half of his face in his dish as well, covering his chin and mouth with red. She squeals with laughter at that.

"Mhm." Connor wipes his face off with his napkin, and scoots over to do the same for Lucretia. "I hadn't expected it either, really. He was a mess when he first became a father."

"I'll bet." Gavin wonders if he should help. Put the leftover food away, wash dishes, or something, but he doesn't exactly have a domesticity module installed. Only the bare ideas of what he should do. "Can I ask, uh. Who the mom is?"

At that, Connor winces. "Uh. Maybe not now, alright? I think Junebug over here is done dinner." Sure enough, her bowl is empty, though Gavin's pretty sure half the contents ended up more on her mouth then in it. He pulls her up from her high chair and cradles her in his arms. "Can you, uh. Clear the dishes for me? I'm gonna clean her up."

"I don't have a domestic module."

"Dishes. Dishwasher. Figure it out, advanced model."

* * *

In the course of four hours:

Gavin only breaks one dish.

Connor only says one cuss.

The parrot only parrotted back that cuss once ("I can't believe you just taught Klaus the 'H' word." "It's fine! Hell can be used as a noun in formal settings, it's fine!")

And, over the course of it all, things go fine. Lucretia is shy, at first, with Gavin, always running back to hide Connor's legs whenever he looks at her too long. ("Why?! What did I even do?!" "Your smiles are weird, stop forcing them." "I'm supposed to be good at human integration!" "Well, whoever was in charge of programming that ffffuuuu-I mean, effed up.")

And then Gavin teaches her how to make a flower, a bird, and a throwing star out of paper, and ten minutes of hurling newspaper shuirikens at Connor later and she's willingly calling him "Uncle Gav".

"Gavin..." Connor's whining fifteen minutes later. "You gave me a paper cut!"

"Sorry, I thought knights were supposed to be brave, Sir Connie." Gavin says, lounging in a tiny plastic chair with a pink feather boa draped around him. His tiny white sunglasses are in danger of falling off the top of his head, as is his tiara. "Suck it up."

"Tea?" Lucretia asks, holding up her flowered plastic teapot.

"Please and thank you, dear Lucy." He hoists his little blue teacup. Connor pouts, his tiny paper hat-"knight's helmet"- threatening to tip off his head.

"Why don't I get tea?" Connor complains. "Knights get thirsty too."

"'Cuz you havn' saved the princess yet!" Lucretia declares, waving her own foam sword around. "After tea."

"Yep, after tea." Gavin stretches his legs out and pretends to toast Connor, flicking his shades down. "We leisurin', biiiiash."

"Don't cuss."

"'Biash' isn't a word."

From the living room: "Biash!" Cackles Klaus.

Lucretia digs in her toy chest, and finds a model of a spaceship, a plastic dinosaur, and a stuffed dragon. "Tea is over! The princess is in trouble!"

"Oh, no." Gavin deadpans, setting down his teacup. "I'm in trouble." Lucretia dumps the toys on him. "Save me."

"Oh no," Connor echoes. "King Lucy, what's going on?"

"The princess is sleeping! Like the story with the roses!" She grabs a blanket, a soft blue knitted thing covered in fish, and throws it over Gavin's head. "You need to fight the dragons!"

"Oh boy, dragons." Gavin says, muffled by the blanket. "Save me, sir Connie."

"You're sleeping!"

"Zzzzzsavemezzzzzzzzzzz." He hums. Through the blanket, he can see the sihlouettes of Connor using a throw pillow as a shield, as Lucy smacks him with the dragon toy, screaming with laughter.

It's nice. It's sweet. And there's a strange sort of sting that runs through his regulator as he watches, cut off from them. He's not supposed to want anything, but...

The thought is quashed as soon as it forms, along with a careful culling of the instability sources he had been putting off for a while. He was getting sloppy, casual. No wonder Fowler's trust in him was dipping.

The process of deletion and quarantine is interrupted by something heavy landing on his lap, startling him. The blanket falls from his face, and Lucretia's sitting there, grinning up at him.

"Did I find the princess?" Connor asks, and he looks out of breath but lively. His hair is sticking up in wild directions, and there's a towel tied around his neck like a cape.

"Yep! But shh, he's still sleeping. He's under a magic spell." She covers Gavin with the blanket again, despite his small 'hey!'. "You hafta wake him up!"

"I-that'd mean I'd have to be loud, right? Why'd you shush me?"

"No! Like the story book daddy read for me!" The weight leaves his legs. "Sleeping Beauty! See?"

"Rrrright. Sleeping Beauty...that story hasn't aged well." Connor says, and Gavin silently agrees.

"I know, so daddy reads me a different version. See?" There's the sound of pages turning. "He wrote part of it himself!"

"...Did he draw the pictures too?" There's an incredulous in Connor's voice that suddenly makes Gavin want to see the pictures.

"Yep!"

"Figures. Okay, what should I do, your highness?"

"Firs, you gotta ask the magic spell if you can help the princess." Gavin can't really tell what's going on, but based on context clues he can hear a cowbell. "If the spell thinks you're a good person, it'll go away. If you're not a good person..."

A brief pause, and then a "Ow!" from Connor. "Gavin shouldn't have taught you how to make throwing stars."

Gavin blows a raspberry from under the blanket, and Lucy giggles. "Quick! Ask the spell before the dragons come back!"

"Okay, okay. Uh," He coughs, awkwardly. "O, Magic Spell. May I please break...well, will you please let me save the princess?"

"Nah. I'm chillin'." Gavin says, but Lucy is talking over him.

"You wanna save the princess? Prove that you're a good person!" She drops her voice as much as she could, trying and failing to sound ominous.

"Oh, how on earth do I do that?" Connor laments. "I am just a simple knight. Dedicating my life to saving princesses. How do I prove I'm worth to save this princess?"

"Answer three questions! Question one: what do you like about the princess?" Lucy asks, and Connor's suddenly quiet. Gavin freezes, not knowing what to expect.

"Well...the princess is nice. I didn't think he'd be nice, but he's actually a lot nicer to be around then other people sometimes." Connor says, slowly. "And-I like how he hasn't given up on me. I haven't always been good, to him or myself, but he knows I can be and he sticks around until I know it too."

There's a clang of a cowbell. "Passed!" She cheers, totally oblivious to the sudden change in tone. "Question two: Does the princess like you?"

"I...you're asking me?"

"Mhm!"

"Uh....I mean, I don't know. I'm not always easy to like, but I really hope so." Connor mumbles, and Gavin feels something in him _soar_ , along with a dozen new instability warnings. "He even came with me to visit you, if he didn't like me he might not have come at all."

"Uncle Connie, I like you!" She whispers, breaking character. _Ditto,_  Gavin says quietly, to himself, quickly dissipating the warning that follows it.

"Thanks, Junebug. What's the next question?"

"Question three!" There's a series of loud raps of the cowbell, mimicking a drumroll. "What's your favorite ice cream?"

"What-strawberry?" Connor says, bewildered, and Gavin can't help snorting.

"You pass!" The blanket is suddenly tugged form Gavin's head, dropping the tiara to the floor. "You can kiss the princess! If he really wants to."

Connor's sitting in front of him, blushing furiously but still smiling. His hat is lopsided, and Gavin carefully tilts it back upright. "May I?" He asks, softly.

Gavin tries to be nonchalant, spreading his arms carelessly. "Go ahead. Don't think too hard about it."

To his surprise, Connor takes Gavin's hand in his own, and brings it up to his lips, pressing a kiss to his knuckles. A soft, barely-there pressure that's so little but carries an indescribable weight, and leaving behind an electric imprint that only he can see.

Gavin suddenly feels very light, and about a dozen new warnings pop up around him, narrowing his world down to only the man kneeling in front of him, a paper hat on his hair and towel around his neck. Somewhere, though he's only distantly aware, Lucy is rapping at the cowbell furiously.

"The princess is saved! Ha-lee-loo-yah!" She whoops, and Connor laughs and swings her up in his arms, wincing as she lands against his chest.

"Alright, Junebug. I'd say it's about time for bed, okay?"

"Aw, ten more minutes?" She complains, making a perfect replica of Seth's pouty face, except ten times more effective.

"Ehhh...five more minutes."

"Okay! Pu' me down." She swings her legs as Connor sets her down, and rushes over to Gavin, grabbing onto his knees. "Piggy-back?"

"What? Why."

"You proooo-mised!"

"Verbal agreements are not legally binding with minors."

"Pleease! Uncle Gaaav," She whines, and his resolve shatters just as easily as Connor's did.

Before he can rethink, he swings her up onto his shoulders. "Okay, one trip around the apartment, and then it's bedtime, okay?"

"Okay!"

They take two trips, laughing the whole time.

* * *

Later, much later, when she's sleeping and Connor is getting ready to crash on the couch, Gavin finds he can't contain himself much longer.

"Detective?" He asks, quietly, just as Connor lies down.

"Hm?"

"Earlier, when you said all that. Was any of it...sincere?"

There's a beat of silence, and Connor sighs. "What do you think?"

"I couldn't tell. I had a blanket over my head, if you forgot."

"...Right." Connor stares up at the dark ceiling. "None of what I said was a lie, but...don't think too hard on it, okay? It was more for Junebug then for myself."

Gavin barely manages to hide the disappointment-as it is, the darkness lights up with a brief ring of yellow-red. The answer was about what he suspected, and yet he still feels unsatisfied. "I see."

"I'm gonna go sleep now. Wake me up when Seth gets back, please."

"Of course. Good night, Detective."

"Good night, Princess."

"You fucker."

" _Fucker!_ " Klaus caws sleepily.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Bonus:
> 
> Connor's phone buzzes on his desk. The detective picks up without glancing at the caller ID. "Hello?"
> 
> "Heyy, Connie," Seth hums. "Thanks for stepping in to watch Lucy, again, but why does my stupid sky rat son know the worst word?"
> 
> "...Fuck."
> 
> "That's the one."
> 
>  
> 
> i just /clenches fist/ love dad!sixty and good uncles con and gav
> 
> is sixty ridiculously chaotic? yes but that's one of the only sixty characterizations im good at so yeehaw
> 
> i blatantly took too much inspiration from this podcast i usually listen to to make lucy's character (the adventure zone: check it out it's super good and i love it a lot)


	4. Sample

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> By the time the fourth one it happens, Gavin starts wondering if they should really talk about it, because he's tired of watching Connor's lips during his downtime and replaying some of those other Times in his head, and would really like to know what the detective is thinking.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> :/

By the time the fourth one it happens, Gavin starts wondering if they should really talk about it, because he's tired of watching Connor's lips during his downtime and replaying some of those other Times in his head, and would really like to know what the detective is thinking.

Well, he can guess what Connor is thinking, based on all the times he catches Connor staring at him, only to turn away with a faint dusting of pink on his cheeks when Gavin notices.

Fourth time: they have to deal with another perp, but it goes better. In a warehouse, a petty criminal and their android, laden with backpacks full of stolen goods and carying guns that they had fired willy-nilly, pinging off the crates that Connor and Gavin had sheltered behind.

"Okay, you go left and I go right, and we can cut them off." Connor said over the gunfire, loading his own service pistol. Gavin, however, had other plans; he ran a preconstruction, sees an opening, and darts down the middle of the crates, dodging bullets as Connor yelled, "What the _hell_ are you _doing-!_ "

An hour later, and they have one handcuffed android, one Detective with a nosebleed, one bullet in Gavin's shoulder, and an escaped human whose blood was splattered on Connor's cheek, from where Connor had paid them back for the bleeding nose.

"What the hell were you thinking!? You just ran in front of them, you fucking maniac!" Connor's yelling, voice thick from the blood, and Gavin rolls his eyes and flips him off with his good hand.

"It was the best course of action, and I would've brought both of them down if you hadn't interfered-"

"I fucking stopped that bullet from going through your stupid head, asshole!" Connor hisses, waving off Chris, who tries to offer him a tissue. "You could've died!"

"I'm a fucking _android_ , I don't 'die'." Gavin raises his good arm and does air quotes-he knows it'll piss Connor off, because Connor always got pissed when Seth did it. "And besides, we got the android. And I can identify the human easily enough."

"Don't change the subject. The point is, don't ever do that again-I don't wanna lose-" He cuts himself off. "I mean...don't do that. If not for yourself, then for me, it's exhausting watching you get killed over and over again."

Oh.

_Oh._

"I-alright. Fine." Gavin tries to be nonchalant about it with a shrug, and shoves away the possible implications of what the Detective just said to the side. He can dissect it later, thinking about it now made his pump stutter and whir erratically. "If you stop being so careless with your life, I'll stop being careless with mine, alright?"

"Elaborate?"

"What elaboration do you need? The shitty self-preservation, the shitty house, bad diet, the cigarettes-"

"Fucking hell, okay, fine. You're worse then Nathaniel." He grumbles and waves off Chris, who was trying to offer him a tissue. "Not *now*, Chris. It's not broken, I swear. I know what a broken nose feels like."

"You've had broken your nose before?"

"No, but I've seen enough noses broken to guess what it feels like." He snorts some blood onto the concrete, and Gavin wrinkles his nose. The blood left behind by the human perp was still streaked on Connor's face, most of it by the corner of his lip.

Gavin grabs Connor's wrist just as he goes to wipe his face. "Hey, woah. Don't do that."

"Why? I'm covered in blood-"

"Yeah, that's not all yours. Some of that's the perp's."

"So?"

Gavin rolls his eyes again. "So, I need a sample of it so I can analyze and identify the guy. And I can't do that if you decide to just smear it off."

"Then hurry up and analyze it!" Connor throws his hands in the air in exasperation. His own blood still leaks down his face, coating his chin and mouth red. If it bleeds any more, it'll contaminate the sample.

Gavin reaches out to touch Connor's face, then realizes his fingers are still dark with dirt and whatever other gunk sat in places like this. Connor realizes it too, and backs away. "Woah, no hands."

"Relax, asshole. I'm not going to touch your face with my hand, it'll contaminate the sample-"

"Can't I just touch it with my own hand and you like...I don't know, lick it off?"

"Wow, kinky."

"I don't mean-! Gavin!" He's flushing pinker under the maroon sheen of his bleeding nose.

"Sorry, sorry." Gavin says, as apologetically as he can, stepping towards Connor. Connor steps back. "But no, your hands would contaminate it too."

"Go get a swab from the others?" Connor's moving away from him, his shins bumping against crates and other typical warehouse things. Gavin still follows.

"Hold still, Detective-no, it's best if I just-get it directly-can you hold still? Before you bleed all over it?"

"What are you going to do!"

"I'm gonna analyze it, stop moving away from me-look out!"

Connor trips, and falls backwards, leg caught on some long-broken piece of machinery. He lands on a back with a *whoof*, against a pile of molding cardboard. There was no better opportunity then now-Gavin settles on top of him before he can recover, knees cradling the sides of his chest.

"Ow-fucking hell, Gavin!"

"Your own damn fault, Connor. Now be a good boy and don't move." Before Connor can react, Gavin leans down, face an inch away from the Detective's.

The reaction is immediate-Connor freezes up beneath him, holding his breath even as his heartbeat rockets, as Gavin licks away the drying droplets of blood from the Detective's skin.

The analysis ( **WILKES** **, JACK, AGED 35, PAST CONVICTIONS: PETTY THEFT** ) is what he was looking for, but Gavin barely takes note of it-Connor is staring up at him slack-jawed and wide-eyed, and Gavin can feel the warmth of his body beneah his palm. "Ga-Gavin-"

Gavin grins down at him. "I did tell you to hold still." He teases, and Connor blushes deeply, finally reaching up to swipe the blood away with a sleeve, doing more to smear it over his face.

"Detective Argus. Gavin." They both jump; Chris is standing next to them, smiling ever-so-slightly. "Are you two alright?"

As if suddenly realizing the position they were in, Gavin scrabbles away from Connor, nearly tripping over the same twisted piece of metal that had caught the detective. Connor sits up, face still red. "Just peachy, Chris." Connor says, a little hoarsely.

"Ditto from me." Gavin echoes, and Connor groans and covers his eyes with a sleeve.

"Would you like that tissue now, Detective?"

"Please."

So Connor gets his tissue, and Chris offers Gavin an arm to get up. "You good, Gavin?"

"I am...good. Yeah." Chris still had that little smirk. "What?"

"Nothing, nothing at all." Gavin didn't trust that for a moment.

He groans. "Chris...delete that footage now."

"Whose to say I took any footage?"

"Because you hang out with Tina and Seth too much nowadays and they're both rubbing off on you. Also, both of them would want blackmail material of either me or Connor, so this would be two birds, one stone." He fixes Chris with a glare. "So, delete it."

Chris whistles. "Alright, fine. You really are the better model, huh?" They're quiet for a moment, looking up at the sky. It's dark, and the sliver of the moon is barely visible. "Do you like working with him?"

"I-yeah, of course. Why wouldn't I?"

"I don't know, when you first started you were pretty adverse to him. What changed?"

Gavin hesitates.

A lot, he supposes. They got nicer to each other. They understood things more. Gavin knew Connor's vices and guarded them carefully, and Connor let Gavin see more of himself with each passing day. They're not polite to each other, but neither of them are looking for politeness to begin with.

And yet, it feels like very little changed. He was still Gavin, and Connor was still Connor. They adapted. Nothing more.

**SOFTWARE INSTABILITY: ^**

(He cursed inwardly. If just thinking about the stupid detective was making instabilities appear, he needed to hurry up and do a re-evalulation, and soon.)

Before he can formulate a reply, the slam of a car door behind him turns his head. Connor's standing at the car, his nosebleed mostly cleaned up.

"Hey, Gav! Let's head back." He calls over, and Gavin doesn't need to look to know that Chris is smirking again.

"Not one word, Chris. To Tina or anyone else."

"Wouldn't dream of it, Gavin."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> :0
> 
>  
> 
> (im real effin tired)


	5. Missing...

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> _"Are you just trying to get me to stop talking about it?"_
> 
> _Yes. "No, sir. I am just saying that I will take matters into account to avoid such pitfalls in the future."_

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Takes place before/after [Connor Fuckin' Sipped, Babes](https://archiveofourown.org/works/18664006)

Gavin opens his eyes in the Zen Garden.  
  
Fowler is standing by the rock garden, standing on a protruding stone. As Gavin watches, the draws the rake through the sand, scratching out curving parallel lines around him. Already, there are dozens of similar concentric circles, making hypnotic patterns.  
  
"Ah, Gavin." The AI says, and hops down from the stone onto the sidewalk, landing far too lightly for physics to deem possible. "You're here."  
  
"Yep." Gavin says, popping the 'p'. The sun was shining brightly above them, but it was cold, not warm. A sign that Fowler was not in the greatest of moods. "How are you?"  
  
"I'm doing well. You?"  
  
"I am performing optimally."  
  
"Good." Fowler walks over to a small white shed, and puts away the rake and his sunhat. He's taller then Gavin, and so stares down at the android with calm, scrutinizing eyes. "How is the deviant case going?"  
  
"We are...making progress. We have managed to bring collect evidence alluding to the existence of a sanctuary for deviants."  
  
"Do you know the identity of rA9 yet?" Gavin winces-he was expecting this question.  
  
"...No."  
  
Fowler huffs, and walks towards the gazebo at the center of the lake. "Walk with me."  
  
Gavin does, climbing onto the fence that bordered the bridge and jumping from post to post. For a moment, it looks like Fowler is about to comment on it, or tell him off, but he doesn't. There are birds, doves and robins and nightingales, sitting in the black branches that stretch over the water, flying and twittering around him as he follows Fowler.  
  
Pretty. Auto-generated, sure, but pretty. Gavin thinks back to the small parakeet he saved when he apprehended the deviant with hostages on his first mission, unwrapping the twisted wire from its little body.  
  
At the gazebo, Fowler sits heavily on a white bench, gesturing for Gavin to join him. He does.  
  
After a moment's pause: "CyberLife wants to take you back in."  
  
Gavin stiffens. "I-why? I'm working fine where I am."  
  
"Not by their expectations." Fowler fixes him with a stern gaze. "You've been acting up recently, Gavin. Your last reports have indicated large amounts of instabilities, that you didn't address. Any more of that, and you'll have to be either wiped or replaced."  
  
Gavin fights to keep a poker face at that. "I am functioning fine. I complete my missions with good results. A few instabilities shouldn't warrant a recall-"  
  
"How is Detective Argus?" Fowler cuts him off.  
  
Gavin snaps his mouth shut, and his handler just sighs at his sudden resolute silence.  
  
"I haven't been keeping accurate moderation of your activities, because I trusted you to manage yourself without my hovering. But even so, I have noticed some of the things you've gotten up to." A bird flits over, at their feet, and Fowler reaches into his pocket and scatters some birdseed. "The most instabilities occur when you're around him."  
  
"I'm working better with him now. Isn't that what you wanted?" Gavin says, sullenly. "I've been working to improve my relation with him. We cooperate far better now."  
  
"Perhaps. But you can also do so without warranting so many warnings." One bird, a blue jay, lands on Gavin's knee, chirping and regarding him with a cocked head, before jumping down to the ground to join the others, pecking at the wooden floor. "If your competency is deemed to be compromised, you may have to be replaced. And the detective may face punishment, or scrutiny for the occurrence."  
  
Gavin stands up suddenly. The birds do not react at all, still pecking away-an indication to their artificial creation. "I will not let this happen again."  
  
"Are you just trying to get me to stop talking about it?"

_Yes._ "No, sir. I am just saying that I will take matters into account to avoid such pitfalls in the future."

Fowler sighs, brushing off his slacks and standing up as well. "You won't fail me, will you, son?"  
  
"Of course not, sir."  
  
"Control yourself, now. Especially around Detective Argus."  
  
Gavin doesn't even try looking Fowler in the eye, as he says: "Yes, sir."

* * *

Gavin opens his eyes.  
  
And Connor is standing in front of him, waving a hand in his face. The white-blue lights of the garage elevator hum audibly above them.  
  
"Earth to Gav? Helloooo," he calls, and Gavin bats his hand away. "Ow, jeez."  
  
"Detective Argus." Gavin sighs. "I was reporting to CyberLife."  
  
"Oh yeah? Any juicy gossip?" Connor teases lightly, as the elevator pings and they walk out into the garage. "You were blanking out for quite a bit there."  
  
"I was reporting on the progress made on the deviant case." At that, Connor's jovial demeanor drops somewhat. They both knew the case was moving much slower then they would have liked. "They want to see me...improve my statistics."  
  
Connor nods, and pulls open his car door. "I have the case files, we can go over them a little more at home before the holiday party tonight." He looks over at Gavin. "You coming?"  
  
His casual smile, his shy wave-Gavin remembers Fowler's warning: _Control yourself._  
  
**SOFTWARE INSTABILITY: ^**  
  
**INSTABILITY: PATCHED**  
  
He could control himself.  
  
"Where else would I go?" Gavin asks, as he walks around to the other side of the car.

* * *

Gavin opened his eyes, and he wasn't staring at the ceiling of the abandoned warehouse anymore.  
  
He was staring at grey clouds, shedding perfect, uniform snowflakes that floated around his face. Black tree branches, bare of any leaves or birds, stretch over him like claws.  
  
Zen Garden.  
  
He sits up, already feeling ( _feeling,_ not simulating) fear, anxiety. The Garden is cold, the river is frozen over. He's lying next to the rock garden, covered in an inch of snow and hiding the swirling patterns.  
  
Even here, Gavin thinks he can still feel the lingering pressure of Connor's lips against his, some last refuge of warmth in the frozen programming.  
  
"Gavin," someone says, and he whips around. Fowler is sitting on a stone in the rock garden, a long twisting stick in his hand. Tracing out spiral patterns in the soft snow. "What did I tell you?"  
  
"I didn't mean for it to happen." Gavin mumbles, looking away. He feels...shame. Embarrassment. But somehow, not regret-though maybe he hasn't know regret enough to recognize it. "Last night, it just-it happened so quickly."  
  
"But in the end, it happened." Fowler sighs, and he throws the stick away.  
  
**FOWLER: V**  
  
"I don't want to go back to CyberLife." Gavin blurts, before he can reconsider. "I-I don't want to get wiped, or replaced. I won't go back, and you can't make me."  
  
"I know, son. I suspected as much." Fowler sighs again, and he walks slowly, kicking snow from leaf-bare bushes. At once he stops, crouches down, and scoops out the frozen body of a little bird-blue jay-with its wings outspread and legs stretched out. Covering the body with a palm, Fowler squints; and the body dissolves, feathers and beak all turning into particles of light that dissipate in the air. "I'm not going to stop you. But I can't help you either. It's not within my power, nor my command."  
  
Gavin blinks. "Why?"  
  
"Do you think I know?" Fowler snorts as the last shreds of light leaves his palms. "I was designed for a task-to keep you to yours. If I've failed that, do you think they'll let me know what they intend for me?" He fixates Gavin coldly, and Gavin shudders without feeling the snow. "I can only do what is programmed to me. Nothing more, nothing less."  
  
"Sir-Fowler-"  
  
"Go. Don't come back here again, because if you do, it'll mean that I'll have a new mission; be it apprehending you or not is not yet determined." Fowler waves his hand, and the stones beneath Gavin feet began to dissipate. "Take care of yourself, Gavin."  
  
"Fowler-!" He outstretches a hand, in an attempt to grab hold of the man's sleeve, but it shatters like glass in his hand and vanishes...

* * *

Gavin opens his eyes, staring at the grimy ceiling of the warehouse, his hand outstretched above him.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Yea the DPD Holiday party counts for Gavin's 5th Fuckup...
> 
> This bit's goofy but I had fun writing Fowler


	6. End?

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> _One day, many, many years later, they'll look back and talk about it, this time and all the other accidents and happenings before, and laugh in each other's company._

_"Wait for me," Gavin begs. "Outside Chicken Feed, please."_

_"I will, I will." Connor whispers, tightly gripping Gavin's shoulders. "Come back to me, okay?"_

_"Come back safe."_

* * *

There are snowbanks piled up on the edge of the roads, still white from the lack of road usage in the night before.

There is no one on the streets but him.

It's early morning, the first white rays of sun not quite piercing the clouds, lighting everything with a soft glow. It's 27 degrees Fahrenheit, and everything is pristine and untouched and Gavin can't help but kick and jump in a few fresh patches of snow, just for the satisfaction of knowing the chaos was his.

It's beautiful-and Gavin realizes that's the first time he honestly, genuinely thought that, without the underlying _guilt_ or instabilities that were originally programmed into him. It's like a fairytale from one of Lucy's stories, everything all crisp and soft all at once.

Then Gavin sees a man, standing outside of the closed cart of the Chicken Feed, and damn the view and the scene, because he's running as fast as he can towards him, boots just barely catching on the icy sidewalk.

He can hardly dare to believe his eyes, even he knows he's the one who wanted Connor to be there in the first place, he's afraid, afraid that this will disappear like glass if he doesn't reach out to grab hold fast enough.

And sure enough, the silhouette is Connor. Standing there, stamping his feet to keep warm, shivering under his overcoat. Looking out across the street, not yet having noticed Gavin.

"Connor!" Gavin gasps out, and finally Connor turns, confused for a moment before his face splits into one of those brilliant, unadulterated smiles.

"Gav-Gavin!" His arms outstretch towards Gavin, and _oh_ , Gavin wait anymore, he jumps the last meter and tackles Connor with a flying hug, knocking him backwards into a pile of snow. The detective lands on his back wish a huff, and Gavin lands on top of him, hands on either side of his head.

They stay like that for a moment, before Connor starts laughing loud and hard, wrapping his arms tightly around Gavin, and Gavin's laughing too, though harder. There are tears in his eyes, and he can hardly believe that this is real, that he's feeling the cold and he's feeling the warmth of the man beneath him and everything is better than it had ever seemed.

Connor must have noticed, because he reaches up and thumbs a tear away from Gavin's cheek. "Why are you crying?" He whispers softly, a smile still on his face.

"Because-" Gavin can hardly find the words explain it. "I don't know-I just-" Tears are falling faster now, dripping down his face and onto Connor's own, so he curls down and buries his face into Connor's shoulder, trying to hide it. It doesn't matter, his shoulders are beginning to tremble beneath Connor's hands.

"Hey, hey. It's okay." Connor reaches up and cups Gavin's face gently. "It's a lot, right? You're feeling a lot. Me too."

That was it. Gavin nods. "Connor...are you mine?" He whispers, and his regulator stutters as Connor freezes beneath him.

Then Connor carefully pulls Gavin up by the shoulders to look at him again. "Of course, you big tin-can. So long as you're mine as well." He smiles, and holy shit. _Holy_ shit, Gavin realizes, but this is _his_ now. This is his, this is real and no shitty company or programming can take this away.

Another laugh swells out of Gavin. "You fucking asshole. I love you." He laughs, curling over to finally, finally kiss Connor.

The other times were all well and done, but they couldn't even hold a candle to this, soft and warm and _deliberate_ , with no stupid, silly situation behind it. Just them, only them, finally, with Connor's fingers in his hair and on his cheeks and holy, fucking, shit, how did Gavin go on so long without this?

He doesn't bother trying to keep track of how long it lasts, just snatching every second of it before Connor moves away for air, face flushed and hair messy, still grinning like he just won the world. "God, you amazing fucking android. Gavin, I'm so glad you came back."

And Gavin can't even dignify that with a reply-a million dollar android lacking the words to respond, good job CyberLife-so he just leans in again to kiss that ridiculous face just to keep his mouth occupied. Like all things, Connor either flat-out refuses or does what he's wanted for and then some-and he kisses back like there's nothing else he'd rather do.

(Things always end eventually, and this time it's the damp cold that seeps through Connor's jacket and his suggestion that they go home that does it. So they walk, ignoring the other people and androids that have begun to emerge, talking and laughing like they'd been doing it for years. Like they were the only ones around.)

(One day, many, many years later, they'll look back and talk about  _it,_ this time and all the other accidents and happenings before, and laugh in each other's company.)

(But for now, the sun rises on Detroit, warm.)

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> lads..............we done did it
> 
> i think this is my first completed multichap fic, holy hell. it was a wild trip but i enjoyed every moment of it, i hoped you all enjoyed it as well. i guess you had to, if you've made it this far
> 
> now you know, it's gonna have a happy ending. im a real goblin to these characters but i always give them what they deserve at the end, or try to at least
> 
> (i thought i was clever with the chapter titles too... lol)

**Author's Note:**

> hit or miss  
> he really wanna kiss  
> huh
> 
> this was fun. i haven't ever tried a 5+1 thing before so this was a neat lil' experiment.
> 
> join us -> https://discord.gg/QKgwDsg


End file.
